Better or for Worse
by Aragem
Summary: Premovie Ashley and Jenny Copeland, a couple were happily married until an accident on the road changes their lives forever.
1. Chapter 1

He could hear the shower running in the next room, in the small bathroom connected to the bedroom he shared with Jenny Butler Copeland. He was almost tempted to join her, but the buffet started thirty minutes ago and ended at 8:00. If he joined her, they would spend all night lovemaking and wake up starving in the morning.

Also, like any Southerner, he loved a good buffet.

He heard the squeaks of the water being turned off and listened to the familiar sounds of her footsteps on the floor. The door finally opened and he beheld his wife in all her glory, covered by only a towel.

For a 34 year old, she had the body of a twenty year old. Her hair hung down her shoulders like wilting flowers, but they would dry and come alive in soft brown waves. Beads of water clung to her legs and arms and she left wet footprints on the wooden floor behind her as she made her way to her dresser.

"Are you going to wear that?" She patted herself dry with the towel, giving him a full look at her bare ass and legs.

"What's wrong with this?" He rolled off the bed in a pink shirt with the words "Real Men Wear Pink" on the front.

"You wore that last Tuesday." She was pulling on a pair of panties and was searching for her bra.

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did. I remember, because those ten year olds laughed about it last week."

Then he recalled the kids from the table over reading his shirt and cackling loud enough for the dining room to hear. "Yeah, yeah, I did wear this last week."

"Wear your black shirt, you look nice in it." Jenny was straightening her bra, tugging at it till it fitted comfortable beneath her breasts.

"But the tag itches."

"Get a pair of scissors and cut it off." Jenny pulled a day dress over her head. It took her a few moments to wrestle with it, getting her arms through the sleeves.

"Nope, too lazy, hon." He stepped up behind her as her head poked through the neck hole and slid his arms around her waist. He kissed her hair, taking in the scent of her shampoo. "Hmm, you smell good."

Jenny leaned back against him, her hands folding on his. "I love you, Ashley Copeland."

"Love ya, too."

* * *

The old blue truck trailed down the road from their house in rural Mississippi. Their nearest neighbors lived ten miles away and they barely spoke.

He was wearing the black shirt with the tag removed with his arm around her thin frame as she leaned into his side. He rubbed her arm, enjoying the weight of her body against him.

There was a little restaurant owned by a small family at the edge of town which held a large buffet on Tuesday night. It became a small habit for them to attend Tuesday night buffet instead of staying home and cooking. They served fried chicken, mashed potatoes, rolls, corn bread, okra and so on and so forth. They discovered it soon after it opened near their fifth anniversary.

Married for ten years, right after high school had added weight to Ashley's midsection, where a beer belly was settled beneath Jenny's arm. He needed a shave, but he never found the time. It didn't matter how smooth shaven truckers were, as long as they carried one shipment from point A to point B. His dark hair was combed carefully from his face and much to his chagrin; white specks were beginning to rear their pearly heads within it.

"Ashley, maybe after dinner we could see a movie?"

"Sure, I guess we could see one. . . which one?"

"I'm not sure, I'm just in a mood for a movie."

"We'll drive by and see what they have."

"Thanks."

They drove on in silence for five more minutes and Jenny spoke up again. "Ashley. . . ."

"Yeah, Jen?"

"The Matthews might bring their new baby tonight . . ."

Right then, the pleasantness of the evening turned sour. Ashley held his breath waiting for the other shoe to hit the floor.

"Ashley, we could call Child. . . ."

"Jenny, no, we can't go through that again."

"But maybe this time . . ."

"The mother could change her mind again. I don't want you to get your hopes up again and then get them smashed in your face."

His hand tightened on her shoulder as he remembered the look in her eyes when she realized that she would not be taking the child that had been promised to her home. He knew he saw something die inside of her when the agent started reading them the rights of the mother, of how the mother's window was still open to change her mind, how there had been no papers signed and there was no obligation. They went home, the baby seat empty, to a house where a nursery will not be filled with innocent laughter or cries.

"But if we don't try we'll never have a baby."

"We don't need one." Ashley kept his eyes on the road ahead. The sun was setting, casting the world into a light gray with rays of orange making a last stand against the night. "We have each other and that should be enough."

Jenny sat up. His arm uncurled around her and he set his hand on the steering wheel. From the corner of his eye he watched her lean against the door, her arms folding on her chest.

"Honey, listen. . ."

"It's alright."

They sat in silence for several long moments. He glanced at her and she was drawing on the window. It was a small habit she did when she did when she was bored or wanted to take her mind off something. It was childish, and he had made cracks at her about it sometimes. She drew butterflies and flowers, sometimes a cat face with loony whiskers and tall ears.

He felt bad. He would love to have a child too. Hell, right after they had married, they had planned on having family, three kids to be exact. They tried the natural way for three years before finally deciding to see a doctor about it. It seemed that Jenny had been born with a slight disfiguration of her uterus, disabling her body to allow an embryo to mature past a certain state. There was no treatment or surgery that could help. The news devastated her. It hurt him too, he suppose for women it was harder to deal with.

Adoption was their only chance, but going through the process. Filling out forms, interviews, waiting, and hoping and then finally, they get a chance to be interviewed by an uncertain teenage girl whose sudden pregnancy gave them hope for a child. The girl chose them out of 100 applicants and then chose them again out of 25 interviews.

He swallowed remembering how Jenny had drug him to every single store that sold baby items. They had spent a fortune on toys, clothes, furniture (it took forever for her to pick the right crib), and then items for when the child grew older. They even chose two names. Robert if it was a boy and Gloria is it was a girl.

Then the day happened when the girl was to give birth and they would take their baby home. The baby was a girl, Gloria, 8 pounds and 6 ounces. When Jenny held her for the first time, it was love at first sight. Gloria was Jenny's child from that moment and he was happy.

That was until the agent came into the room announcing that the mother had changed her mind. She wanted to keep the baby after all.

That was seven years ago. No doubt Gloria, no, the mother name her Tiffany, was in elementary school back in Florida. They had to move to Mississippi to get away, to start new, and maybe forget.

But Jenny never forgot and she had resisted the move, but it wasn't in her to completely fight against it. He had found their new house, packed their things, arrange for the movers to come, and had driven Jenny across Alabama and into Mississippi.

Time healed all wounds, but he figured that Jenny's wounds never completely healed. She always got a distant look in her eyes whenever they came across a baby in public and he no doubt was sure she was thinking about the baby they almost had.

He was sorry. He was so sorry that she had been hurt and was still hurting and there was nothing he could to help it. If he thought that this time they would be assured a baby, he could go for it. But they had waited three years after applying and had gone through five months of excitement only to have their faces slammed in the door.

He didn't want to go through it again. He didn't think that Jenny could face another disappointment such as that. They were happy as it is. They could live without the sound of the pitter patter of little feet. They were fine as is.

Yet, it wasn't enough for Jenny. And deep down, maybe it wasn't enough for him. Was it worth the risk of disappointment? Maybe this time it would be different. Maybe they won't have to wait so long or it would be worth the wait.

It could be that his fear was keeping them from being complete.

"Jenny. . . "

She looked up, her head tilted as it usually did when she curious of what he wanted. The sun was gone and behind her was blackness of night.

"Maybe we could. . . ."

He never got the chance.

Suddenly light spilled out behind Jenny's head and the truck were slammed from Jenny's side. His shoulder hit the door sending jabs of pain down his left side. Jenny was thrown against him, but her seat belt kept her from spilling across his lap. He instinctively slammed on brakes, hard. The truck twisted, screeching off the road and into the ditch.

Jenny leaned against him, panting. Her gray eyes wide and her mouth opened in an O of shock. He wasn't much better himself. The truck was tilted on its side in the ditch, and he was practically lying against his car door.

"Are you alright?" He looked her over for damage.

Jenny pushed up, against him, putting her feet on the floorboard, trying to upright herself. "Yes. . . .What happened?"

"I think we were hit by another car."

"But how? We didn't come to the crossroad yet. . . "

"It's alright. I'm fine, you're fine. Let's get out."

Jenny undid her seatbelt and he struggled with his. It was hard to undo it from this angle. She reached down to help him.

"No, it's alright. Just go on out."

Jenny twisted, and he heard the door being opened. She trusted him to know what's best in a situation like this.

The door swung open, no, he was wrong. It was pulled off. The sound of the hinges breaking off was deafening. A giant hand closed around Jenny's waist and hauled her out. Ashley's heart plummeted when Jenny's scream ripped through the sky above him.

He wrestled with his seatbelt, nearing tearing it off. In his younger years, he would have been out of the truck within five seconds. But age and weight gain had slowed him. Within a minute he was tripping out of the tipped truck. Another scream ripped above his head.

He looked up to see Jenny being held in the hand of a Transformer and his jaw dropped. From the light of the truck's headlights, he could see the purple marking on its shoulder. Ashley's blood turned cold and he nearly released his bladder. It was a Decepticon.

The giant mechanical being noticed him and with a smirk and reached for him with his free hand. Ashley scrambled, fear and adrenaline fueling him, he made it out of reach.

He heard Jenny sob and he heart wrenched. He wouldn't leave his wife, he couldn't leave her. "Put her down!"

He might as well have told the ocean to dry up.

The thing actually chuckled at him and made another reach for him. Ashley danced back, nearly tripping into the ditch. He was terrified. Everything within his being told him to run away, to flee for his life, but he was chained to Jenny. He could not, would not leave without her and Goddammit, the damn thing knew it.

Jenny moaned and she was hanging limp from the machine's hand. Was she unconscious or dead?

He fell over, his foot snagging a lump in the earth. He hit his hip, shooting pain down his leg from an old football injury. His mind swam with the pain as he physically and mentally cursed it.

He looked up to see the mechanical being reaching for him.

For the rest of his existence, Ashley was unable to remember what happened next.


	2. Ashley Copeland

One thing he noticed upon awakening was that he was heavy. He was able to move easily, but he felt heavy. He reached out, to touch Jenny, to feel her familiar shape beside him, but instead he touched nothing. His hand rolled over a smooth surface then touched the edge. He heard the metal moving over metal and opened . . .. or turned on his eyes.

He was looking at a metal ceiling above him connected to metal walls around him. He sat up, his metal body clinking.

Ashley looked down and saw his new body for the first time.

He didn't eel initial shock or horror, as one would expect. He took it in slowly with grim gravity as a dream would take in something horrific in a dream. His legs were no longer pale flesh with dark hair, but dense cylinder shaped metal with one sloped like toe on each. He could move them up and down as if they were connected to a hinge inside the legs.

He swallows or he would have swallow if he has the muscles to do so. Instead his optics blinked off and then back on. He stood, he didn't waver, but he mind was swimming.

This was a dream; it was no way it could be real. He couldn't have airplane like wings sloping downward from his mid-upper back. His hands were black as if he was wearing metal plated gloves.

He looked around. The room had remained the same since he had awakened. He took a few experimental steps and listened to his body clink and whir to his movements. It felt like reality, but it couldn't be real. He wasn't a robot. He was flesh and blood.

A door slid open ahead of him, spilling light across his feet. An odd looking figure stepped in the pillar of light of the doorway and tilted its head. "Awake? A bit earlier than expected, but a positive sign none the less."

"Wha. . .?" He halted in speech. His voice didn't sound like his own. It reminded him of speaking through a fan as a child to hear the blurring blades alter his voice. He touched his throat and it was the slightest sound of metal touching metal. "Where am I?"

"That is not important. What is important is that you are here."

"Dammit. Where is here?"

"Come now, there is much to talk about."

"No, you tell me right now." Ashley clenched his hands and heard the minute whirs emit from them.

"You can see for yourself out here." The mechanical man ushered him toward the opening.

Ashley didn't want to go through the door. He wanted to know what the hell was going on, why was he in a body he had no right being in, and who this character. But it seemed the only way he was going to get any answers was to comply with the mech's wishes.

Ashley moved smoothly across the room, which surprised him very much. How was he able to move so easily in a body that was nothing like his body of flesh? For the love of God, he could feel parts moving inside him that he knew weren't part of his human body. He forced himself to ignore, keeping his mind of his surrounds instead of within himself.

He entered into a room resembling a fancy apartment with floor to ceiling windows. Beyond the glass windows he could see lights pinpointing the tops of skyscrapers in the distance. Ashley drew nearer, past his 'host' with barely a glance.

Was this New York City at night? Ashley stood at the glass and realized he was much further away from home. The city before him wasn't made of concrete and stone, it was made of metal and steel. Roads weren't on level with the ground, they rose above, by God, and he couldn't see the ground at all. With a city like this, he would imagine it teeming with life, but nothing moved, save the pulsing lights on various buildings.

He backed away carefully and heard a chuckle from his 'host'. "A bit overwhelming?"

Ashley turned and was able to fully the mech clearly for the first time. He was shorter than Ashley and was painted yellow with red fringing. He had a satisfied look on his face and Ashley sat that one eye was a lime color and the other was empty. In its place was a black whorl like the lens end of a camera or telescope. It swirled as it focused on Ashley.

"So tell me, do you like it?"

Ashley stared at him for short moment not sure of what he was asking, "The city?"

The 'host's' face distorted into impatience. "No, your body."

Ashley reflexively looked down at himself. "Why the hell am I like this?"

"Because I made you like that." The host metallic, yet flexible lips drew up into a smile.

Ashley wanted nothing more than to punch that smile off. "This is a dream, right? A nightmare and any moment I'm going to wake up in bed with my wife . . . . ."

He felt his whole body halt from the shock of his realization. The memory flooded back into his mind. The crash, the giant mech, and Jenny screaming. It crashed through his mind as de ja vu.

His 'host' tilted his head staring at him not in a concerned way, but more of curiosity. "Problem?"

It broke Ashley from his assault of memories and he stared at the 'host'. "Where's Jenny?"

"Jenny?"

"Jenny, my wife, where is she?"

The mechanical being rolled his head as if annoyed by the inquiry. "I don't know."

Ashley felt a roll of great dislike wash over him for this robot. "Yes, you do or you have an idea of where she might be. You say you did this to me and I know when I was conscious, I was with her. You know something and you better tell me right now."

"Tut tut, threatening your creator, now we are off to a bad start."

If Ashley had blood, he would have felt it boil. Jenny was missing and this thing was acting as if he was a child demanding something impossible to receive. "Godammit, I am not fucking around here."

"It's interesting at how you are able to easily mingle uncouth Earthen words with Cybertronian Common."

"Don't change the subject!" But his host's works made him listen to his speech. It wasn't English; it was a series of sounds impossible for the human vocal chords to create; yet he comprehended it perfectly. He understood the verbs from nouns, how to use possessive tense, but one thing he notice was that no where in the language was their a word to describe gender such as his or her, she or he.

Another thing he noticed, was that there was a small shield covering his mouth, no. . . .he did not have a mouth at all. He couldn't feel his lips, tongue, or teeth. His voice came from a box in his throat and spoke easily through his mask.

His fingers groped the mask and he grasped the edges of it by his 'nose'.

"I wouldn't pull that off if I was you." His host reached up to take his hand from his face.

Ashley jerked away and glared with hatred at him. "You sonuvbitch. What the hell did you do!?"

"Took you from your chemical waste of a body and placed you into a superior being of metal. You should thank me." The bastard had the audacity to grin at him and turn, giving him his back. The host walked idly toward the tall windows. "I brought you to our level from you pitiful husk of life."

Ashley stared at his back. "My husk of a life?"

"You'd be dead in thirty years, your body wilting around your . . .. being."

"So you just decided to put me in a robot body?"

"Cybertronian body."

"Like there is a difference." Ashley scoffed as he took a step toward his 'creator'. "You can put me back."

"I cannot. Your chemical body has been disposed."

Ashley devoured this with ice running down what he had for a throat. "Where's my wife?"

"Again you ask me this? I don't know."

"Yes, you do."

"Alright, fine!" His creator turned and gave him a very annoyed look. "She's dead, I disposed of her. Happy? Now you needn't know where she is."

Something coiled up inside Ashley, it felt so tight inside him, he barely moved. His optics stayed on his creator through a hazy fog inside his mind.

The mech looked at his quizzically possibly had been expecting an outburst, but seemed relieved that there was none. He turned back to the window and Ashley could see his reflection with a smug smile.

Ashley's body began to move.

"You'll find it easy to adjust. I made some arrangements with your programming that should help you."

Ashley's hand handed on the back of a metal chair.

"I have such plans for us . . .."

Ashley then learned that Cybertronian blood was pink when it spurted across the windows.

* * *

Ashley found his way easily down to the ground level. Just get into an elevator and hit the character that said ground level. He was also surprised to see that he could recognize the language characters easily. This means one and that means five, he scanned his memories and mind and found that he knew the meaning of more characters than the Japanese language or possibly from any human language.

He left the elevator and entered what he could guess as the lounge with benches lined against the wall. He left through the front door.

He didn't keep up with how far he walked or how long it had been since he awoke to this nightmare. His mind raced over the events that had warped his mind and his world.

Was this real? If this was a dream, he should wake up. Was Jenny dead? Did that bastard really kill her? Would he lie about it? Where was she? What had happen to her? He still wasn't sure of what had happen to him.

If this was real, and then it meant his life, his world had changed completely. No more rising in early morning to go to work, meeting his friends at work and bemoaning about the company policies, coming home to a good dinner or to take Jenny out to eat, seeing his parents each Sunday . . ..

Ashley heard a sound. He awoke and found that his fist had smashed into a metal plated door of a building. He had smashed it hard enough to dent it inward. He drew back his fist and stared at the deep dent.

"I'll be damned. No wonder I was able to take that fucker's head clean off."

He found he was able to force the door open by strength alone. He leaned the door plating against the doorway. If someone came in, they would have to knock it outward, alerting him.

He supposed Transformer authorities wanted him for murder now. But weren't they still at war with the Decepticons? Were there any Autobots on Cybertron? Damn, he should have paid more attention when the new spoke about them or watched the info television specials about them. He remembered being clued to the set with Jenny when the alien robots awaken on Earth. It had been something out of a science fiction movie or TV series. After six months, it slowly became old news and life went on.

The building he had broken into was empty, with metal like furniture strewn about. He glanced and saw an opening in the far corner. He investigated it to see that it seemed that the corner of the building had weaken from rust and last of care. Someone had easily broken through scattering bits of the worn building and scattered bits of the wall on the floor. Ashley set up table against the hall to hide it from others seeking entry and to warn him of whoever made the hole might come back.

He chose what looked to be a comfy chair and set it upright. He lowered himself heavily onto it, but it didn't help in relieving the great weight burdening him. He wanted to just wake up and be home.

Jenny, was she really dead? Did it hurt her when she died? She must have been terrified. What was he going to do without her? Did he really want her to see him this way? "Hi, honey, guess what? I can't fit through out front door anymore. No, I don't think Weight Watchers is going to help much."

He clenched his fists, enraged at his predicament. How could this have happened to him? How dare that bastard think he had to the right to alter him like this?

He was glad that Jenny was dead. He didn't want her to see him this way.

The thought came before he realized the ugliness of it. He then hated himself as much he hated the creator. How could he wish Jenny dead? She was his life, a piece of him, and his soul mate. He would never see her smile, hear her laugh, enjoy the way she scowl at him for wearing that dumb pink shirt . . ..

He heard a new sound. It was a low mournful whimper and it came from behind his mask. Crying was different too. He did not feel tears rise and well in his eyes, his nose didn't tingle, nor was he sobbing. It was a low keen in his voice box, which sounded sadder than human weeping.

Jenny was loving, caring, and thoughtful, a good Christian woman. She would never hurt or say hurtful things about anyone, even those who snubbed in high school or customers who had been rude to her during her time as a waitress. She always carried a smile for everyone and seemed happy to see him or her each time. To imagine one of those mechanical monsters harming her, killing her, made him sick.

Please, God, don't let it have hurt her when she died. Please let her have been asleep or unconscious when she died to spare her the terror.

A crash broke through his prayer and he popped his head up toward the window. Lights from a vehicle splashed across the window and he ducked down from the chair. The light remained and Ashley could see the light reflecting from the window on the next building over. Something caught his eye, which made his being frozen in shock. It wasn't the head of the Transformers bearing the light passing by. It was what was on the window itself.

It was all he could do to wait until he was sure the Transformer was clear before he moved to the window. He stared at the glass, his optics bright, lighting it up enough for him to see it.

On the class was a small child like drawing of a butterfly.

Jenny's small habit of drawing on the windows.

Was she here? Was she alive?

Another thought shot through him like steel piercing through his metal hull. Could she be in the same predicament as him? Could she have been made into a Transformer too?

A light bloomed within him. He had hope now. She could be alive, she had been here. He traced the drawing with his finger. The lines were too small for his thick black finger, but he recognized Jenny's work as many times as he had wiped it from his passenger window.

He hurried outside without thought and called her name, "Jenny! Honey, are you there?"

Light lashed over him and he turned to see the Transformer bearing the light down the alley from him. Stupid, he had forgotten about the Transformer from outside. Before the thought to run back inside was created in his mind, the Transformer aimed a gun at him.

"Don't move."

Ashley didn't move.

The Transformer came closer and he could see that it had a flashlight attached to his shoulder. It was shorter than him, but was taller than his creator. It was red and white with crimson optics studying him.

"You kinda big to be an empty. You got lost from your unit?"

Ashley had only a moment to think. "Yeah, I guess so."

He noted that the metal man had an angular face and the edges of his helmet should have been cut off before they reached the outer corners of his optics. The edges covered the corners giving his optics an odd look. His body was angular as well and gave him a bit of an adolescent look in Ashley's eyes.

However, this wasn't the vibe Ashley was getting from him. The one held the gun steady in his hand, his optics firmly on Ashley, the sensor points flicking toward any movement he made.

Ashley waited, but for a long moment the smaller mechanism stared at him as if waiting for him to say or do something. His mind kept going back to the window; Jenny was here, around here somewhere. Dammit, this 'guy' needed to leave him alone so he can go look for her. Also, he didn't appreciate the gun being pointed at him.

"So, who's Gen-nee?"

His sudden inquiry startled Ashley. "Wha . . .?"

"There more than one of you around here?"

Ashley collected himself and thought fast. He supposed honestly, to an extent, was the best answer. "I hope so. I'm looking for a Jenny."

The mech cocked his gun. "Gen-nee part of your unit?"

"No, I'm not part of any unit." Ashley wondered, 'should he be?'.

The mech took this in and studied Ashley intently. "Function?"

"Function?"

"What is your function?"

"I don't have one."

The mech buzzed which Ashley instantly recognized as a snort. ""You don't have a function?"

"Not that I know of."

"That you know . . .? Hey, you aren't a sparkling are you?"

Ashley drew a blank on what to say. Sparkling? Does that mean baby? Or newbie?

The mech cautiously lowered his gun. "This Gen-nee your creator?"

"Jenny." Ashley corrected slowly lowering his arms. "No, she isn't my creator."

"She?"

"Yeah, she's a woman."

"Ross-main?" The mech actually stumbled over the word.

Ashley was confused, then the realization came to him that he had never see on the news of a female Transformer. Robots can't reproduce like humans, so there was no need for females. That was why there weren't any pronouns that differentiated between sexes. There were no sexes to differentiate from.

This brought to Ashley a lot of questions about his new anatomy.

"Why are you looking down? You lost something too?"

"No, nothing." He instantly lifted his head. "Look, have you see anyone?"

"No, I haven't." The mech tucked his gun away into a compartment Ashley couldn't see. He looked up and studied Ashley for a bit. "How long have you been functioning?"

"You mean how long I've been alive?"

The mech gave him an impatient look. "Yeah."

"A little while."

The mech stared at him. "A little while? How long is a little while?"

Ashley gave him an estimate of time in units of time he would never have recognized back on Earth. "Little less than a cycle."

The thing's optic ridges rose. "Primus, you are fresh and already out from your creator's shadow?"

"I really don't want to talk about it." An image of pink fluids spurting from an empty cavity swam through Ashley's mind.

"Sorry I asked." The mech waved it away, possibly seeing something in Ashley's face. "Name?"

"Ashley Copeland."

The mech stared at him quizzically. "What?"

Shit, he needed a Transformer name for now. Think. So far most of the names he had heard on the news had been simple names of objects or ideals. Ironhide, Jazz, Bumblebee, and Prowl. He didn't dare try to use the names he had already heard of. Come on, think of something. Then he remembered the nickname his father had given him when he was little.

"Ash. My name is Ash."


	3. Jenny Copeland

An Astrocycle ago . . . 

The range of buildings that Ashley would walk by was abandoned. They had once been used for storage, but now they serve as the bases for the upper cities. Those that come here do not wish to be found.

One such being was inside a building. She found a rusted area at the back corner and was able to force her way in, scattering bits of rusted wall across the floor. She leaned against the wall, by the window, her finger tracing shapes into the dust collected on the glass.

She wasn't sure of how much time has pasted since she awoke to find herself in an alley in a body not her own. Her body made her think of a metal rag doll. Her body was humanoid, but it would be hard to call say she held a human shape. She was a patchwork of yellow and lavender parts. Her optics were a light maroon color which was the only light beside the far off glow outside.

What had happened to her? It was a question she had asked herself over and over. How did this happen to her? The last thing she remembered was the collision and being lifted up.

Where was Ashley? Was he alive? Was he somewhere out there in the same condition? If he were, how would she ever recognize him?

She couldn't stay here forever. Something was happening to her body and she felt it. It was making changes inside of her she didn't understand. She had the feeling it was getting worse.

Yet, she was afraid to go out. She was afraid of what would happen to her if she was found. The purple marking on her chest frightened her.

Was she one of them now? Would they help her since she had this mark? Maybe. But was she brave enough to take that chance. It was one of them who wreck the car and grabbed her. It might have even been one of them who did this to her.

Where was Ashley? She needed him now more than ever.

Her vision flickered and she rubbed her optics. The soft whispering of her metal hands moving over the glass of her eyes sent chills down what she had a for a spine. She noticed that her vision was dimming. It was hard to see inside the darken building. She had to do something, find someone.

And that was the last thing she wanted to do.

Ten minutes later, her vision flickered and she had no choice.

She exited the way she came through the hole she had created and came around to the front of the building. It took her a moment to choose the direction to go and she headed north.

As a reflex and subconsciously it comforted her, she hugged herself. The first thing she noticed about this new body was that her anatomy resembled that of a cloth doll. No genitals or breasts. She was flat and smooth down there as a Barbie doll.

She walked and wondered if she was actually making any progress. The buildings looked so similar that it made her wonder if she had left the spot she that had begun.

Then she heard a crash up ahead of her. She halted in mid-step and stared ahead. She could see shades dancing away from and she scrambled into an alley and listened. She could hear talking, no loud shouting and then a wail of pain.

She tucked herself far into the back and waited, listening. She couldn't make out what they were saying, but curiosity gnawed at her. She waited, holding her breath needlessly, she didn't need it.

"SLAGGER!" It rose high enough for her audios to catch.

It was followed by a second crash and then a second wail.

Her curiosity won out over terror and she crept to the back of the alley and moved quietly behind the buildings. As she moved closer she could comprehend.

"Thought you could hide out here from me!?"

Crash.

"I'm sorry, Primus, I'm sorry! I didn't. . . "

"You didn't think, now did ya!"

She paused and hide behind against the building. She had her hands over her mouth, her optics wide. Now she wished she hadn't moved at all, she should have gone the other way.

"Greenspin, will you hurry up and slag him already?"

"Oh, Primus, no no no!!"

Her sympathies went out toward the frightened voice, but fear and common sense made her stay put.

"Shut up, Hyper! You ain't the boss."

"We gotta go. We don't have time for you to vent your anger, just finish it and let's go."

The way he said it shocked her. He ordered him to hurry along as if he was order his partner to come along with the groceries. As if taking a life was nothing to him.

"NO!!! NO!!!"

She felt the world dropped from beneath her the sickening sound of a blast and metal cracking and bursting within a second. She smelled something burning and parts of her body coiled in revulsion.

"Satisfied?"

"Yeah."

"Let's go."

She heard the metallic footsteps fade away until nothing but silence and a strange sizzle hissed in her audios. She must have remained their for twenty minutes or possibly forty-five minutes, letting what she had heard sink in. It couldn't have happen or been real, but the smell and the sound continued.

Then she finally moved from her hiding spot.

The blue mech on the ground was sprawled out as if he had taken a tumble backward, except he will never bound up. He was large, three times her size and no doubt five times her weight. She couldn't help but stare in awe at his size compared to hers. His 'boot' was the width of her waist and his palm bigger than her face.

She studied his body and could tell that he was some sort of plane. Plane wings swept upward from his back and a recognizable cockpit was on his front. However, the cockpit was smashed and she could see twisted and burnt metal into a gaping hole oozing a pink substance.

Her optics traced the pink from where it coming forth from the fatal wound trailed over his side and dripped onto the metal pavement. The feeling was alien and familiar together, yet she recognized it and gave it a name. She was hungry.

She knelt by him, her optics still on the pink and she leaned forward. Her mind screamed at her to stop, yet something deeper and carnal urged her on. Her metal tongue slipped out and collected the liquid and brought it into her mouth. She felt it roll down a drain at the back of her mouth and into her body. Her systems attacked the tidbit of life and demanded more.

Five minutes past; she was feeling better and her face was pressing into the open wound. Her glossa reaches into the depths of the open fuel lines, drawing the life giving liquid into her mouth. She even bit at the lines to open them more for her.

Her mind screamed at her. _Stop stop stop. You are drinking robot blood! _

But it was like picking at a scab. You know its gross and you shouldn't do it, but you are compelled to continue even though it hurts.

But this didn't hurt. This was making the hurt she felt go away.

She lifted her head, the pink drizzling down her chin, rolling down her chest, to spread down her mid-section. She took a long moment panting, the air hissing through her vents and her mouth.

"I'm sorry." The soft words left her pink stained lips to dead mech she was feeding off of.

She finally looked at his face. It was a handsome face, or it had been when he was alive. His mouth was open from his last denial of his fate, his optics were off, a deep burgundy empty of the life that would turn them blaring red.

"I'm sorry." The words were meaningless when the one you wronged is dead.


	4. Crazy

Ashley asked for the mech's name. The mech told him his name was Nightlight.

"Nightlight?" Ashley felt a quirk at the edge of his. . .something, he wanted to chuckle, but he had the feeling that if he did so it wouldn't have been good.

The mech in question looked neither embarrassed or showed any anxiety about Ashley, he downed his energon, the pink cube that was also held in Ashley's hand.

Ashley stared at the small cube, or small on a transformer's scale. It was firm to his fingers, but if he poked a finger hard into the side, he was shocked to see it give easily and his digit wiggled easily in the fuel. He pulled it out expected the cube to leak. He held it out do as not to get the pink drops on his lap, but was stunned to realize that the inevitable hole that he must have made was not there. The cube was whole and looked untouched.

"Hey, don't play with your fuel. Actually, it's my fuel, but I'm letting you refuel because I know you are going to pay me back." Nightlight drained the last of his cube and eyed his. "Come on, fuel up. I know it's nothing fancy like what they have at Kalis or Polyhex, but around here you take what you can get."

It was now or never. Ashley lifted the cube to his mask plate, not sure of how he was going to drink it with no mouth, but fortunately, his body knew what to do. He felt a split on the front of his of mouth appear and a small siphon ease out and inserted itself into the cube. He felt liquid ebbing down what he thought of as his throat and following it was a nice warmth spread through him.

It was if warm oil was being poured inside of him and it spread throughout his limbs. It felt good and Ashley thought, _"No wonder Decepticons __are so eager to steal gas to get this stuff."_

Ashley came around to notice that Nightlight has moved from his chair to a metallic counter where various containers were set. He opened one looked at its contents, then moved onto another box. He muttered to himself as he searched the boxes until he finally found what he was looking for. It was a small glass object that made Ashley think of a light bulb, but more rounder. Nightlight unscrewed the cap from large light mounted on his shoulder and inserted the 'bulb' into it.

The room, or as Nightlight called it, his personal niche, was a small bunker located between two warehouses. There was a bunk at the corner and along the shelves were various tools and items of what purpose he couldn't discern. Though there was no dust, he was able to tell from the scuffing on the floor and well worn edges of the room's furniture that gave away the fact that it was old and Nightlight has used it for many years.

Ashley fidgeted in his chair. He didn't want to be here drinking energon, he wanted to be out there looking for Jenny. He KNEW she was somewhere around in the area. He knew it in . . . whatever he had for a heart.

"Look, I appreciate the energon. . . I really do, but I can't stay. I got to find my wi. . . . my . . . person."

"Gonna be hard, being that you don't know what he looks like or where he could be. And you don't have a clue of where you are and how to function. Naw, it's not gonna be hard. . . .it's impossible."

_"But I know she was within this area recently. I hope recently. . . .how long does drawings in dust last? An hour. . . hell, maybe even days. She could be anywhere. __And he's right. How do I look for someone that I have no idea how they look? She could be in a body like mine or in something completely different. Chances are, she's no longer human. . . ."_

The thought jolted him. In his mind, he had pictured Jenny with soft brown hair laying in waves on her shoulders with her brown eyes flashing in the light. Jenny doesn't look like that anymore. She could look like any of the transformers he remembered seeing on television.

Most of the Transformers he had seen had been masculine, he had never seen any female transformers, but then. . .there was a chance that there were no females. What did Jenny look like now? Did it matter?

Inside his head, a small voice said, yes.

"Hey, where are ya? Are ya in there?" There was a tapping on his brow.

Ashley flinched and "blinked" his optics. "Yeah, I'm here . . .sorry, I was deep in thought."

"You're weird, ya know that." Nightlight settled back onto his chair with a replenished energon cube. "Or are you crazy?"

"Is there a difference?" Ashley noticed that he was holding out a second cube for him and he accepted it.

Nightlight smirked and sipped his cube. "I can handle weird alright. I've been around weirdoes before. Rust-crazies, Motorheads, and hey, I even worked with a guy that collected bodies, please don't ask me what he did with them, I'm energizing."

Nightlight shook his head, his face wincing as if he was trying to get rid of an unwanted image. It obviously didn't dismiss the image when he set his cube on the small stand at his elbow. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and it was such a human position that Ashley had a hard time seeing him as an alien robot and not as an inquisitive teenager.

_This isn't some teenage kid. This guy held a gun on me and knew how to use it._

Ashley remembered the look within Nightlight's optics that said that it didn't matter to him whether he shot him or not; whether Ashley died or not. Nightlight's world revolved around Nightlight and it struck out at whatever threatened him or blocked him from his goals.

Nightlight continued, "But what I can't handle is crazy. Crazy is dangerous and unpredictable. Are you crazy, Ash?"

Ashley saw the dark gleam that spread across Nightlight's optics and all the friendliness was gone from his frame. Ashley wondered what had ever made him think that Nightlight was being kind to begin with. Though Ashley had to be at least three times his weight, Nightlight held the cool confidence that he could deal him great harm or even death.

Ashley answered with what he felt was safest; honesty. "No, I'm not crazy. I'm bewildered and even a little afraid, but I'm not crazy.

Nightlight studied him for a moment, the length of a human breath and heartbeat. Finally, he sat up and nodded, he accepted the answer. "Good, you'll do."

Ashley had to stop himself from blurting out the question: do for what? He nodded his head, afraid of what would happen if he refused . . . whatever Nightlight had in mind.

Nightlight reclaimed his cube and resumed draining it. He held an air of satisfaction as if Ashley had done something that pleased him. Ashley suddenly felt that he didn't like Nightlight very much.

Ashley's thoughts turned to Jenny and he worried. What if there were other Transformers out there like Nightlight? She wouldn't stand a chance against them. She needed him; he had to find her.

If Ashley had a mouth, he would be licking his lips nervously. "Look, if you need my help in something, I'll help ya out, but I got to find Jenny. She. . . he's important to me and I can explain, but I don't think you'd understand, but I'm being honest with you, finding him is my first priority."

Nightlight held up his hands, the frightful visage gone from his frame as quickly as it came. "And I understand that, but the way I see it, you can't find someone that is lost if you yourself is lost. You need me."

He was right and hearing him say it made it hit home in Ashley's head. He was alien . . . an alien in a native body, but an alien nonetheless. He barely understood the culture, much less the planet. He not only needed Nightlight, he _desperately _needed Nightlight. It scared him.

Ashley wondered how he can accept Nightlight's help instead of affirming of how much he needed him. He worked the words over in his head and carefully delivered them, "It wouldn't hurt to have someone to show me around and another set of eyes looking for Jenny would help."

Nightlight nodded. He lips turned up in a pleased grinned, but his optics held a hint of disappointment. "First, let's refuel and recharge, then I'll take you to meet the gang."

"The gang?" There were others around here?

"Yeah, they got their own hideaways." Nightlight finished his cube and stood. "I'd offer you a berth if I had one big enough, but I guess you'll have to make do with the floor."

"That's fine with me." Ashley gave the cube in his hand his attention and drained it away.

"Better take another." Nightlight offered him a third cube.

"No, I shouldn't drink up all your . . ."

Nightlight insisted. "You need it. With a body your size, you need three times of what I need to function. Especially for tomorrow."

Ashley felt a something for in the pit of his . . . tank? "It better not be anything illegal . . ."

Nightlight tossed his head back and laughed. "We're DECEPTICONS! It's not illegal unless you get caught!"

He giggled as if he had just told a very amusing joke. He headed over to the berth against the wall and climbed onto it. He sobered, rubbing his mouth with dark fingers. "Also, I don't mean to lecture or anything, but tomorrow, instead of looking like a lost mini-bot, try to act tough. You're like a tank with wings for Primus's sake and saying that you are afraid sorta ruins the affect, wouldn't you think?"

Ashley looked on the floor for a suitable spot. There was one against the wall that was cleared up c furniture and trash. He slowly settle his bulk downward and sat against the wall with his legs stretched out. He had no muscle, tissue, nor bones, yet something within his legs were glad to get some rest.

Ashley took a glance at Nightlight and could see the bottom of his feet. They were moving sideways in a playful why a human child would move their feet if they were excited about something.

Ashley wasn't a praying man when he was human, but it seemed that a prayer really wouldn't hurt right now. He asked God to guide him and look after him and be with Jenny wherever she was, and to please let them reunite soon. He breathed an amen and then heard Nightlight giggle.

Ashley glanced at him again, but the smaller mech was lying on his back, his feet still. He wondered if Nightlight had overheard his prayer or he was still excited about tomorrow. As Ashley settled back against the wall, and crossed his arms over his barrel of a chest, a question came to mind.

Was Nightlight crazy?


End file.
